Everything Happens For a Reason
by alyssialui
Summary: If only Hermione had been there on time, then this wouldn't have happened. It was all her fault. sad!Ronmione. AU.


_A/N: If only Hermione had been there on time, then this wouldn't have happened. It was all her fault. sad!Ronmione. RxR. FxF. _I do not own Harry Potter.__

_Submission of:_

_**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): **Astronomy Assignment #4 - Write about a life-changing event that happens to a character simply because of a slip of fate._

_**Hogwarts Fair 2014 Challenge/Competition: **Classes - Muggle Studies Lesson 4 - word count - 999_

**_Hogwarts Casino 2014 Challenge/Competition: _**_Flirt Corner - Hermione/Ron_

_**Pick a Card, Any Card Challenge: **Three of Clubs- Write about unexpected death_

**...oOo...**

Hermione sat in the waiting room outside St. Mungos emergency room, her hands shaking a cooling cup of coffee. She had been sitting out here from about 7pm and it was now 3am. She had last heard from the healer about an hour ago and he didn't have much good to say at that time.

She knew Quidditch was a dangerous sport, she knew he was in danger every time he got on that broom. She should have told him to stop it and get a safer job at the Ministry or even at his brothers' joke shop. But he had easily convinced her that this was his calling and who was she to stop someone from their dreams?

She also knew he was good at what he did. He had greatly improved from his days at Hogwarts and had gotten a position on his favourite team, the Chudley Cannons. With him on their team, they rose through the ranks and were winning games with his expert keeping. He was so happy and she knew why: all his life, he had been always behind the scenes or second best, but he was at the forefront in Quidditch. She couldn't have been prouder or happier for him than whenever she saw him play.

But today was different. She always went to see all his games to see him off before he went onto the pitch. No matter what she was doing, she would put it down to see him play. She wanted to share his joy of winning and his sadness at losing. She wanted to rejoice and she wanted to be there to pick up the pieces. But she wasn't there today. She had been held up at work. a forgotten file that just happened to grab her attention as she was stepping out of the office. She didn't like to leave work undone, so she sat down to complete the report that she thought wouldn't take much time.

However, she had lost track of time, something she never did, and mentally scolded herself. She ran to the floo and went straight to the stadium. The game had already started and she watched the orange dots zoom between the navy blue of the opposite team. She looked towards the Cannons goal posts and saw her boyfriend blocking the centre ring. She smiled and rushed to her reserved seat. He always made sure that the seat right behind his goal posts was waiting for her.

As she got closer, she saw his eyes watching the players if any should come near his posts, but they would always stray to her empty seat and then the crowd. She knew he was looking for her and wondering why she was missing. She smiled and hurried to her seat. She wanted to be there to root for him and put his mind at ease.

She sat and his eyes landed on her and she waved happily. He grinned and gave her a small smile as well. His face that was once wrought with worry was now relaxed. His whole posture had changed, and he looked happy and confident. His game would improve and it would be because of her belief in him. She blew him a kiss but then her eyes widened and she started to wave her hands wildly, pointing behind him. He looked at her strangely and turned around...to be hit right in the face by a bludger.

He was knocked off his broom, the bludger carrying a few feet away from his broom and slamming him into the stands below her before he fell even further down to the pitch. Everyone in the stands started to scream and stare, but none louder than her.

The game paused as medics ran onto the pitch to his unmoving body but she never saw them. She was already in motion, running frantically down the myriad of steps to the ground. She had to be there for him. She had to be at his side.

She burst past the men guarding the doors to the pitch, tears unknowingly streaming down her face as she ran towards the small crowd. The guards had caught up to her and grabbed around the waist. She screamed and struggled to get away from their grasps but they held firm. She watched helplessly as he was loaded on a stretcher, his face bloody and caved in and his limbs bent at awkward angles.

She was crying now and holding her chest. It was her fault, it was all her fault. She had distracted him. She broke his concentration. If she had just done her work on time like she usually did, if she hadn't stopped to finish the report, if she hadn't lost track of time and seen him before the match even started, he wouldn't have been looking for her worriedly, he wouldn't have taken his eyes off the game to smile at her, he wouldn't be clinging to life right now.

The doors opened and she jumped up out of her seat. She grabbed onto the front of the healer's robes and asked worriedly, "How is he? How is he?"

The healer had a grim look on his face and he gave her a small shake of his head. Hermione didn't care what else he had to say afterwards. The coffee cup fell to the floor, the brown liquid spreading, and she fell into it. She sobbed into her hands at the healer's feet.

He was the boy she had loved since she was eleven, the boy who she had admonished for not doing his own work, the boy who she had gone on so many adventures with, the boy who had become a man before her eyes. He was her shining light, her breath of fresh air, her Quidditch star and the love her life. He was happy and finally got all he wanted in life. He was gone and it was all her fault.


End file.
